When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.
As I drove to the hospital, the balloons bobbed beside me in the passenger seat. My smile was unstoppable. Today, I was bringing home my girls!
A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t wait to see Suzie’s face light up when she saw the nursery, the dinner I’d cooked, the photos I’d framed for the mantle. She deserved joy after nine long months of back pain, morning sickness, and an endless carousel of my overbearing mother’s opinions.
It was the culmination of every dream I’d had for us.
I waved to the nurses at the station as I hurried to Suzie’s room. But when I pushed through the door, I froze in surprise.
A man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney
My daughters were sleeping in their bassinets, but Suzie was gone. I thought she might have stepped out for fresh air, but then I saw the note. I tore it open, my hands trembling.
“Goodbye. Take care of them. Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.”
The world blurred as I reread it. And reread it. The words didn’t shift, didn’t morph into something less terrible. A coldness prickled along my skin, freezing me in place.
A man reading a note | Source: Midjourney
What the hell did she mean? Why would she… no. This couldn’t be happening. Suzie was happy. She’d been happy. Hadn’t she?
A nurse carrying a clipboard entered the room. “Good morning, sir, here’s the discharge —”
“Where’s my wife?” I interrupted.
The nurse hesitated, biting her lip. “She checked out this morning. She said you knew.”
A nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Pexels
“She — where did she go?” I stammered to the nurse, waving the note. “Did she say anything else? Was she upset?”
The nurse frowned. “She seemed fine. Just… quiet. Are you saying you didn’t know?”
I shook my head. “She said nothing… just left me this note.”
I left the hospital in a daze, cradling my daughters, the note crumpled in my fist.
A worried man leaving a hospital | Source: Midjourney
Suzie was gone. My wife, my partner, the woman I’d thought I knew, had vanished without a word of warning. All I had were two tiny girls, my shattered plans, and that ominous message.
When I pulled into the driveway, my mom, Mandy, was waiting on the porch, beaming and holding a casserole dish. The scent of cheesy potatoes wafted toward me, but it did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside.
“Oh, let me see my grandbabies!” she exclaimed, setting the dish aside and rushing toward me. “They’re beautiful, Ben, absolutely beautiful.”
An excited woman | Source: Midjourney
I stepped back, holding the car seat protectively. “Not yet, Mom.”
Her face faltered, confusion knitting her brow. “What’s wrong?”
I shoved the note in her direction. “This is what’s wrong! What did you do to Suzie?”
Her smile vanished, and she took the note with shaking fingers. Her pale blue eyes scanned the words, and for a moment, she looked like she might faint.
A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney
“Ben, I don’t know what this is about,” Mom replied. “She’s… she’s always been emotional. Maybe she —”
“Don’t lie to me!” The words erupted, my voice echoing off the porch walls. “You’ve never liked her. You’ve always found ways to undermine her, criticize her —”
“I’ve only ever tried to help!” Her voice broke, tears spilling over her cheeks.
I turned away, my gut churning. I couldn’t trust her words anymore. Whatever had happened between them had driven Suzie to leave. And now I was left to pick up the pieces.
A man carrying twin babies into a house | Source: Midjourney
That night, after settling Callie and Jessica in their cribs, I sat at the kitchen table with the note in one hand and a whiskey in the other. My mother’s protests rang in my ears, but I couldn’t let them drown out the question looping in my mind: What did you do, Mom?
I thought back to our family gatherings, and the small barbs my mother would throw Suzie’s way. Suzie had laughed them off, but I could see now, too late, how they must have cut her.
I started digging, both literally and metaphorically.
A man searching through a closet | Source: Midjourney
My sorrow and longing for my missing wife deepened as I looked through her things. I found her jewelry box in the closet and set it aside, then noticed a slip of paper peeking out beneath the lid.
When I opened it, I found a letter to Suzie in my mother’s handwriting. My heart pounded as I read:
“Suzie, you’ll never be good enough for my son. You’ve trapped him with this pregnancy, but don’t think for a second you can fool me. If you care about them, you’ll leave before you ruin their lives.”
A man reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
My hand shook as I dropped the letter. This was it. This was why she’d left. My mother had been tearing her down behind my back. I replayed every interaction, every moment I’d dismissed as harmless. How blind had I been?
It was almost midnight, but I didn’t care. I went to the guest room and banged on the door until Mom opened it.
“How could you?” I waved the letter in her face. “All this time, I thought you were just being overbearing, but no, you’ve been bullying Suzie for years, haven’t you?”
An angry man holding a letter | Source: Midjourney
Her face paled as she scanned the letter. “Ben, listen to me —”
“No!” I cut her off. “You listen to me. Suzie left because of you. Because you made her feel worthless. And now she’s gone, and I’m here trying to raise two babies on my own.”
“I only wanted to protect you,” she whispered. “She wasn’t good enough —”
“She’s the mother of my children! You don’t get to decide who’s good enough for me or them. You’re done here, Mom. Pack your things. Get out.”
A man pointing | Source: Midjourney
Her tears fell freely now. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” I said, cold as steel.
She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. The look in my eyes must have told her I wasn’t bluffing. She left an hour later, her car disappearing down the street.
The next weeks were hell.
A man with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney
Between sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and endless crying (sometimes the babies, sometimes me) I barely had time to think.
But every quiet moment brought Suzie back to my mind. I contacted her friends and family, hoping for any hint of where she might be. None of them had heard from her. But one, her college friend Sara, hesitated before speaking.
“She talked about feeling… trapped,” Sara admitted over the phone. “Not by you, Ben, but by everything. The pregnancy, your mom. She told me once that Mandy said the twins would be better off without her.”
A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
The knife twisted deeper. “Why didn’t she tell me my mom was saying these things to her?”
“She was scared, Ben. She thought Mandy might turn you against her. I told her to talk to you, but…” Sara’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I should’ve pushed harder.”
“Do you think she’s okay?”
“I hope so,” Sara said quietly. “Suzie’s stronger than she thinks. But Ben… keep looking for her.”
Weeks turned into months.
A man rocking a baby | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, while Callie and Jessica napped, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unlisted number.
When I opened it, my breath caught. It was a photo of Suzie, holding the twins at the hospital, her face pale but serene. Beneath it was a message:
“I wish I was the type of mother they deserve. I hope you forgive me.”
I called the number immediately, but it didn’t go through.
A man making a phone call | Source: Midjourney
I texted back, but my messages didn’t go through either. It was like shouting into a void. But the photo reignited my determination. Suzie was out there. She was alive and at least a part of her still longed for us, even though she was clearly still in a bad place. I’d never give up on her.
A year passed with no leads or clues to Suzie’s whereabouts. The twins’ first birthday was bittersweet. I’d poured everything into raising them, but the ache for Suzie never left.
That evening, as the girls played in the living room, there was a knock at the door.
A home entrance interior | Source: Pexels
I thought I was dreaming at first. Suzie stood there, clutching a small gift bag, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked healthier, her cheeks were fuller, and her posture was more confident. But the sadness was still there, hovering behind her smile.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I didn’t think. I pulled her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I dared. She sobbed into my shoulder, and for the first time in a year, I felt whole.
A man hugging a woman | Source: Midjourney
Over the following weeks, Suzie told me how the postpartum depression, my mom’s cruel words, and her feelings of inadequacy had overwhelmed her.
She’d left to protect the twins and to escape the spiral of self-loathing and despair. Therapy had helped her rebuild, one painstaking step at a time.
“I didn’t want to leave,” she said one night, sitting on the nursery floor as the girls slept. “But I didn’t know how to stay.”
A woman sitting on a nursery floor | Source: Midjourney
I took her hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
And we did. It wasn’t easy — healing never is. But love, resilience, and the shared joy of watching Callie and Jessica grow were enough to rebuild what we’d almost lost.
Boy Sees His Birthday Deliveries Planned for the Next 15 Years and Cries When He Finds Out Why – Story of the Day
Teenage boy Charlie struggles to understand why his peers receive expensive presents while he is left listening to his mother’s excuses. He discovers that his mother has prepared 15 gifts for his future birthdays. But after learning the reason behind it, he finally realizes what he truly wants.
Charlie, a 15-year-old with a backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, trudged out of school alongside his classmate Mark.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot, where students chattered and cars honked in a chaotic symphony.
“Did you hear? We’ve got another test on Friday,” Mark said, breaking the silence.
Charlie groaned, his shoulders slumping.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh no, not again! Is this the fourth test this week? School is exhausting…”
Mark smirked. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s just studying. You always stress out before tests, but in the end, it all works out fine.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Charlie muttered, his eyes scanning the parking lot. His expression darkened as he frowned.
“My mom’s late again! How much longer do I have to wait?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe something came up. Don’t be mad at her—she’s picking you up. You should be grateful,” Mark said with a shrug.
Charlie shot him a sideways glare.
“Yeah? I don’t see your mom’s car either. Are you super grateful that she’s late too?”
Mark chuckled softly and shook his head. “She won’t be picking me up anymore. My parents bought me a car for my birthday.”
Charlie stopped in his tracks, his jaw dropping.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“What!? A car!? I’d be grateful too if someone got me a car!” he snapped, his voice laced with jealousy.
Mark shrugged again, calm as ever. “You should be grateful no matter what. She’s your mom. Anyway, see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah… bye,” Charlie mumbled, watching Mark stroll off toward the student lot.
As he stood there, stewing in frustration, a car horn blared from across the lot. Charlie spun around and saw his mom’s familiar car pulling up.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
With a sigh, he slung his backpack higher on his shoulder and jogged toward it, muttering under his breath. He opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, his face already setting in a frown.
Alice, his mom, glanced over at him, her hands gripping the steering wheel.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m late again. I had to finish up a few things,” she said apologetically.
“You’re always late these days…” Charlie muttered, avoiding her gaze as he slumped further into his seat.
Alice sighed, keeping her voice calm.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I said I’m sorry. Now, tell me—how was your day?”
“Not great,” he replied shortly, his eyes fixed on the cars passing outside.
She glanced at him again, concern flickering across her face. “What happened?”
“Mark’s parents bought him a car for his birthday,” Charlie said flatly.
Alice smiled slightly, trying to lighten the mood.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“That’s wonderful! Did he give you a ride?”
Charlie turned to her, his expression incredulous.
“No. Mom, my birthday’s coming up soon. Can you get me a car?”
Alice’s hands tightened briefly on the wheel before she answered. “Sweetheart, I already have your gift planned. Maybe I can get you a car in a few years…”
“A few years!?” Charlie’s voice rose with frustration.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“So I have to wait while all my classmates drive around, and I look like an idiot?”
Alice exhaled and tried to keep her tone gentle as she said, “I know it’s hard, but I just can’t afford a gift like that right now.”
Charlie crossed his arms, his voice sharp. “Then return whatever gift you got and buy me a car!”
“I can’t do that, Charlie. I’m sorry,” she said firmly, though her voice was tinged with sadness.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He turned away, pressing his forehead against the window.
The hum of the engine filled the silence as Alice drove, glancing occasionally at her son, his disappointment weighing heavily on them both.
As she pulled into the driveway, the car came to a slow stop. She turned to Charlie, her face softening.
“Dinner’s in the fridge if you’re hungry. I have a few errands to run, but I won’t be long. Love you, sweetheart!”
“Yeah…” Charlie mumbled without meeting her eyes. He swung the car door open and headed into the house.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence of the empty house wrapped around him.
He dropped his backpack by the couch but didn’t bother to sit down. Something gnawed at the back of his mind—an itch he couldn’t ignore.
His mom had seemed calm, too calm, especially after their earlier argument. Why couldn’t she just tell him what she was up to?
His curiosity got the better of him. Quietly, he tiptoed into her bedroom, the air feeling heavier as if he were crossing an invisible line.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Sitting at her desk, he opened her laptop.
The screen glowed to life, and he hesitated for a moment before clicking on her email.
Most of it was unimportant—work notices, receipts, newsletters.
Then he spotted something unusual: an email confirming a delivery scheduled for his upcoming birthday.
His brow furrowed as he clicked it open.
His eyes widened. The delivery wasn’t a one-time thing. There were 14 more planned—one every year for the next 15 years.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“What the…?” he muttered, his heart racing.
Confused and uneasy, he dug deeper, scrolling through her emails until he found an address for a storage unit.
Beneath a pile of papers in her drawer, he found a small key labeled with the same address.
His pulse quickened as he grabbed the key and headed out the door.
The storage unit loomed ahead, its metal door glinting faintly under the dull light of the parking lot.
Charlie unlocked it with trembling hands. As the door creaked open, he froze.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Inside, more than a dozen neatly wrapped gifts were arranged in a row.
They were all different sizes, some small enough to fit in his palm, others big enough to hold a bike.
Each was topped with a handwritten note in his mom’s familiar, looping script.
He stepped inside, the scent of cardboard and faint perfume hanging in the air. He picked up one note and read:
“Happy 17th birthday, sweetheart. I love you more than anything in the world. I hope you like this computer. Study hard!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His throat tightened as he set the note back. Why had she done this?
He moved to the first gift, a small box with two notes attached. Pulling off the first, his breath caught as he began to read:
“My dear son, if you’re reading this, I may no longer be with you. For years, I’ve known I had cancer, and no treatment has worked. My time is limited, but I didn’t want your birthdays to feel empty after I’m gone.”
The words blurred as tears filled his eyes. He wiped his face, but the tears kept coming, spilling onto the paper.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“That’s why I prepared these gifts ahead of time. They may not always be exactly what you want, but please open one each birthday and know I love you. Always.”
Charlie let out a shaky breath as he clutched the note. His chest ached in a way he’d never felt before.
He looked around the storage unit, the gifts that suddenly felt so much more than just objects.
They were pieces of her love, her effort to stay with him even when she couldn’t.
He gently placed the note back, closed the door, and leaned against it for a moment.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His heart was heavy, but it was full of something else too—a deeper understanding of what his mom had done for him.
The drive home was quiet. The world outside blurred, but his mind raced with emotions. He didn’t care about a car anymore.
What mattered now was something far greater.
Charlie stepped quietly into the living room, his shoes scuffing softly against the wooden floor.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His mom, Alice, was perched on the couch, a book resting in her lap.
She was smiling faintly, her eyes scanning the pages, completely unaware of the emotional storm that had just swept over her son.
Charlie hesitated in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His eyes were red, swollen from crying, and his face held a mix of fear and heartbreak.
Alice looked up, her smile fading as she took in his expression. Alarm spread across her face.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Charlie! What’s wrong? Where were you?” she asked, setting the book aside and leaning forward.
“Mom!” he choked out, his voice breaking as he rushed across the room. He threw his arms around her, clinging to her tightly.
“Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on,” she said, her voice soft but urgent. She stroked his back gently, trying to calm him. “How can I help?”
Charlie pulled back slightly, his hands trembling as he wiped at his face.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I know, Mom. I went to the storage unit,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Alice stiffened, her eyes widening.
“What? Why? What were you doing there?” she asked, a hint of panic creeping into her tone.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Charlie cried, his voice breaking again.
“Isn’t there anything we can do?”
Alice took a deep breath, her lips quivering.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“There’s nothing, Charlie. I’m so sorry,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes.
“No, Mom, I’m sorry,” he said quickly, shaking his head.
“I’ve been such a terrible son. I don’t need a car or any gifts. None of that matters. I just want you to be with me.”
“Charlie…” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“Please, Mom,” he begged, his voice desperate.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I want to spend as much time with you as I can. I love you!”
Alice pulled him close again, her own tears spilling over now.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” she said, her voice breaking as she held him tightly.
The room was quiet except for their soft cries, their embrace a fragile but powerful moment of love and understanding.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Every man reaches a moment when he wants to settle down and have a loving family. But not Henry—he was convinced he would stay single forever, believing it was the better life for him. However, a day spent with his nine-year-old niece makes him realize the true reason behind his life choices.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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